


On Windy Meadows

by Chamomile



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 02:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16008293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamomile/pseuds/Chamomile
Summary: To Kan-E, diplomacy was not long meetings in stuffy rooms with commodores and captains. It was...something like this, Merlwyb surmised.Kan-E, Merlwyb, a band of moogles, and a dream of faraway shores.





	On Windy Meadows

“…And you’re…quite certain this is for diplomatic purposes?” Merlwyb suddenly thought aloud between rustling footsteps in the grass—the comment stopped the Admiral’s companion in her tracks.

“Might I remind you,” Kan-E replied with a playful smile, “I have been Elder Seedseer far before your days as Admiral began.” 

That was true. Merlwyb forgot to consider as much. She kept her mouth shut, yet her mind raced with all manner of confusion. There was a part of her that wanted to tell the Padjal that she was born with that silver spoon; there were no Tridents to be won in Gridania. She refrained, oddly concerned with how Kan-E would react if she were to utter such a thing. There were challenges to both sides of that coin, she reasoned.

That aside, it did not deter her from making another remark as the Hawthorne Hut left their view in exchange for towering sentinels, lined with brambles of a size she doubted she would find in all of Vylbrand. 

“The moogles are capricious beings, are they not?” the Admiral raised an eyebrow, “Why do you concern yourself with their trifles?” 

Kan-E’s patient smile never changed, never faltered. “They, too, are residents of the Twelveswood, and by extension, Gridania,” she explained, “Long have I relied on them for counsel, and it would not do well to reject them that same camaraderie they have provided me.”

Merlwyb gave a slight, unconvinced nod. Counsel from moogles? What _kind_ of counsel could moogles give? Efficient mailing methods? Kupo nut-related culinary tips? She hadn’t the foggiest where to begin with that, and wanted dearly to let it be. But those thoughts simply brought her back to the question of why she even decided to visit Kan-E in the first place, knowing she had these sorts of cumbersome duties to attend to. 

…There was something in the back of her mind that knew exactly why, but she brushed that aside the moment she acknowledged it even in the slightest. It was madness. She despised it, this nonsensical longing to know more about Kan-E. They couldn’t be any more different. 

Yet knowing this, there was another echo in her head, a recent memory of Slafyrsyn, wryly grinning, _“If you recall, Admiral, two lodestones, opposed though they may be, are bound to each other with time,”_ he had told her before she departed for Gridania. Gods take that man, he knew far too much about her than she would have liked. 

In her forty-two summers, she had yet to speak with a moogle for purposes other than the morning post. Yet here they were, crossing through vine and bramble to “talk diplomacy” with the locals, or what have you. Her brow furrowed, Merlwyb nearly passed Kan-E, not realizing the latter had stopped in her tracks. 

“You need not be afraid, friends,” she spoke, in a voice a bit louder than the one she addressed Merlwyb with, “There is someone I would like to introduce you to.”

“…Kan-E, who are—” began Merlwyb in a hushed tone. She was, however, rudely interrupted by a fluffy snow-white moogle or three, having appeared out of nowhere.

“Ku-po!” said the fluffiest of them all, donning a bright red pom, and…was he blushing? “What a lovely friend you have, Kan-E! Tell me, has she any need for—”

“Kupka,” Kan-E stopped the interrupting moogle in his verbal tracks, holding back a laugh, “Much as I am sure the Admiral would enjoy your company, I do not think she seeks a dashing moogle companion.”

“Aw, kupo nuts,” sighed the redpom, who turned to the still-grimacing Merlwyb, “Regardless, it’s a pleasure, Miss Admiral!”

“You’ll have to excuse our brother’s boldness,” sighed the second moogle, crowned with a pom of blue, bowing, “Pukchi Pako. A pleasure, Admiral.”

The third, with a pom of yellow, hid behind the other two, not uttering a word. Perhaps she was just as puzzled by the Admiral as she was with them all, though the yellowpom nodded a greeting all the same.

“An honor,” Merlwyb replied brusquely, waiting and hoping for Kan-E to take the helm. Is that what you were supposed to say to moogles? Why was she so concerned about this? She despised how foreign this all was to her, how seemingly out of place she felt here.

“I take it the three of you have been chosen as this moon’s representatives?” questioned the Padjal. 

“Correct you are, Kan-E!” boasted the redpom, “I’ll have you know, our campaign was flawless! Would that you’d seen it! Pukchi even helped me make a poster!”

“We dubbed it ‘Kupka on the Shore’,” added the bluepom, not as boldly stated as her brother.

“Oh?” asked Kan-E, intrigued, “What brought the shore to mind?” The tone of voice with which she spoke was…serious, yet somehow sprightly. Merlwyb could tell her companion took a certain joy in this, just as she did the rest of this place she called home. To her, diplomacy was not long meetings in stuffy rooms with commodores and captains. It was...something like this, she surmised.

“W-well,” stuttered the yellowpom, “We—all of us moogles—We’d like to see the shore. If that’s all right.”

“Yes, just so!” nodded the redpom, “Would you bring us the shore, Kan-E?! We’ll bring you lots of fruit in return, of course!” 

And then, suddenly, Kan-E’s expression changed completely. The lightness left her voice. Her smile remained, yet something had drained from it, Merlwyb realized.

“A wonderful proposal indeed,” Kan-E’s gaze no longer faced the three moogles, “Though I would love to guide you to those shores…I am afraid that is beyond even my power.” 

“Oh?” the bluepom tilted her head, “Have you not seen it before, Kan-E?”

Kan-E did not answer. Fortunately for her, Merlwyb could.

“If it is shores you wish to see,” she began, “You would certainly be welcome to gaze upon those of Vylbrand one day, if you are not opposed to a bit of a journey.”

“Truly?” gasped the yellowpom. Kan-E turned to her ally, her eyes wide.

“In the meantime,” added Merlwyb, somehow moved by the little furry trio’s excitement, “I am no wandering minstrel, but I would be happy to paint you a picture of Vylbrand, to the best of my ability.” 

“A picture!” the bluepom wiggled with joy, “But you’ve no easel! No paint or brushes!”

“You dolt, she means a _mental_ picture!” huffed the redpom, “It’s obviously a metaphor. Isn’t it, Miss Admiral?”

“That it is,” nodded Merlwyb, trying to hold down a laugh…though it didn’t seem Kan-E could, in fact, her eyes seemed to sparkle with fervor even more than the moogles’. 

“Do tell us, Admiral,” nodded Kan-E, “I would very much like to hear of your Vylbrand.”

Merlwyb couldn’t refuse the wonder in the girl’s eyes…and was rather relieved in the back of that head of hers that Kan-E wished to know more about her, as well.

Taken by that feeling (whatever ‘that feeling’ happened to be), Merlwyb sat them all down in a bramble-less patch and began to regale them with tales of Limsa’s white cliffs, their dazzling purity bathed in the afternoon sun. She could scarcely forget its shining blue ocean, the cool breezes that gently kiss the sands of Mist Beach, the sunrise on La Noscea’s windy meadows and the soft cries of the gulls that would wake her…

She must have taken half a bell to describe all of it, yet she regretted not a word. Kan-E and the moogles, rapt in Merlwyb’s tale, hung on every word, closed their eyes and imagined that they, too, stood with her on that dreamlike island, malms away. When she had finished, her audience let out a collective sigh, almost sad it had ended as quickly as it had begun.

“…Will that suffice?” the Admiral asked, beaming, knowing full well the feedback she would receive.

“Oh, it did so much more!” cried the redpom (was he wiping away a tear?), “It was not simply a tale…but an _experience_!”

“We simply _must_ tell the others!” agreed the blue, “I doubt we can recreate such lovely imagery, but…we’ll certainly try!”

“Thank you,” sobbed the yellowpom, who flew past her siblings and boldly shook the Admiral’s hand with little white claws, “Thank you so much…”

Kan-E remained speechless for a moment, blinking only slightly to escape some reverie, perhaps. Though even from that, she was easy to read. Something weighed on her mind.

“And thank you for introducing us, Kan-E!” said the redpom, “Will you bring Miss Admiral again? I’m sure next moon’s committee would enjoy her tales as much as we did! Why, together, you two would be such a lovely team, don’t you think?” Before she responded, Merlwyb happened to catch a glimpse of a red-faced Kan-E, her head turned the slightest bit back at her companion.

“That is up to the Admiral,” she replied, turning to Merlwyb expectantly.

“I will look forward to next moon’s meeting, then,” Merlwyb crossed her arms, and the moogles kupo’d for joy. And by the looks of it, if Kan-E could kupo, perhaps she would have, too.

Though on second thought, she’d prefer not to imagine it. 

\----------------------------------------------

Kan-E was noticeably quiet on the walk back to Gridania, responding only curtly to the Admiral’s small talk. The latter wasn’t one to internalize many thoughts, of course, and made that clear to her companion.

“You’ve not been yourself since the moogles,” noted Merlwyb, “Is aught amiss? I don’t suppose I’ve broken some Gridanian law?”

Kan-E smiled and shook her head, “Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was a wonderful tale.”

“A reality,” corrected Merlwyb, “My messengers informed you, did they not? You would be welcome to come and go to Limsa Lominsa as you pleased…not fond of the offer, I take it?”

“No, I…!” in a sudden burst, Kan-E nearly yelled, but stopped herself, flustered, before she could continue, “The snow white cliffs, the blue oceans…It all sounded so wonderful. But if my guards were to discover my desire to travel alone with no just cause, I doubt they would allow us a moment to oursel—to myself.”

Something in the way she corrected her sentence made Merlwyb’s throat dry up suddenly…and filled her with a fire she had not known she had in her. Yet before she could respond, Kan-E spoke on, sighing.

“I know not what’s come over me, I…I realize I am free to chart my own journeys, yet somehow I feel as though I am fettered by the home I love so dearly.”

“Then let me help you rid of them.” 

“…My…my guards, Admiral?”

“I was about to say the fetters, but I can certainly do away with the guards if I’ve your permission, _my lady_ ,” Merlwyb gave a half-smile, only realizing the last thing she said after it passed her lips. 

“ _That_ , Admiral, would break quite a few Gridanian laws, if I’m not mistaken,” Kan-E stifled a smile, not terribly fazed by the last comment, “That aside, your aid is most welcome all the same…should it be through legal means, that is.”

“The fetters it is, then,” Merlwyb shrugged, “Before that, however…I should apologize. Moogles notwithstanding, I imagine you and those guards of yours did not take a sudden visit from the Admiral all too well.”

“I cannot speak for my guard, but I was not at all burdened by your presence, if that is your concern. Had you not been with me, Kupka and the others would not have left in such high spirits. Yours was a comforting presence…More so than any bodyguard.” 

“…yet you won’t come away with me,” muttered Merlwyb, exasperated. 

The issue, however, was that she did not expect Kan-E to actually hear it.

“Admiral. You never did state your purpose when you arrived. Are you…truly come to Gridania for my sake alone?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. 

Merlwyb couldn’t read her tone so well this time, and walked on instead…or planned to, until Kan-E unexpectedly reached for her hand.

“Please,” she said, more shaken than before, “I must know.” 

“In a manner of speaking,” she admitted, her expression stony and unchanging. Merlwyb supposed now was as good a time as ever to spill the Mun-Tuys. 

“Then take me,” Kan-E whispered in a dare, tightening her grip on Merlwyb’s hand, “…Before anyone can know I was ever gone.”


End file.
